


Choices In The Key Of 3

by kinfic2



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:23:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4668134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinfic2/pseuds/kinfic2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gap Filler for Episode 220 (the night before the RAGE Party)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choices In The Key Of 3

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my LJ in 2011

_Did you ever have to make up your mind, to give up on one and leave the other behind?_  
_Did you ever have to finally decide? And say yes to one and let the other one ride._ _©J.Sebastian_

 

**ETHAN**

Shit! I screwed up the adagio and missed a fucking pizzicato! Amateurs make those mistakes. Not me.  
  
Fucking Kinney! What kind of sick game was he playing?  You’d think he’d have more class than to pull a stunt like the one at the diner. Fuck! He should have 'shock and awe' tattooed on his forehead. He certainly shocked Justin. Stunned confusion drained the color from his face and turned it a paler shade of pale. A hurried glance at the nonchalant man sitting across from me told me all I needed to know. The whole thing was a set up from start to finish. Brian Kinney played us the way a virtuoso plays a Stradivarius.  
  
With their explosive undercurrent on the verge of blowing up the place, my eyes darted back and forth between them, like an up-close and personal tennis match. _  
  
“We were just having a business meeting.”_  
  
Kinney pulled his gaze from Justin and turned to me with knowing eyes and a shit-eating grin. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. As I rushed toward the door, he lobbed his parting shot. _  
  
“By the way, Ethan, if you’re interested, the job’s yours.”_    
  
Even though his deceptive casualness made me want to vomit, I get the appeal. I’ve never met anyone who gives off such an aura of power and control. He’s rich, gorgeous and as Mr. Taylor freely admitted, fucking amazing in bed _._ Hell, if things were different... But that doesn’t make up for the fact he’s a dickhead. He can keep his fucking money. I'll keep Justin.  
  
Fuck! With the competition so close, I don't need this bullshit. I have to concentrate. This is my dream, what I’ve been working toward my whole life. I can’t afford any distractions. Justin has to choose what he wants, who he wants. But until he does, I have to take care of myself. So I’m choosing me.  

 

 **BRIAN**  
  
I should have gone to Babylon. Actually, I should have gone to the Baths and fucked myself into oblivion with a little help from my friends. Instead, I’m lying in bed wide awake, despite enough weed and Beam to take down a bull, wondering if he’s coming back.  
  
Like a moth to a flame, I glance at the clock and then the door, hoping I’ll hear the groan of reassurance that he’s home. An ambulance siren wails outside, and my blood turns to ice. Christ! I hope he’s all right. If anything happened to him, there’s no fucking way I’d be able to—  
  
Since I can’t sleep, I think. I’ve replayed the past sixteen hours in my head like a broken record. Okay, so maybe I went a little too far this morning. But what the fuck was I supposed to do? Confront him like an injured partner? We’re not partners. The word implies a relationship, which we don’t have. But I had to let him know his romance with Paganini was out in the open. And I did it the only way I knew how—by striking first.  
  
Did he honestly believe I wouldn’t find out? What gets me more than anything is the sneaking around. I may be a fucking arrogant and selfish prick, but I never lied to him. I expected at least that much in return. So much for his fucking rules! What happened to his higher level of moral sensibility?  
  
_“He said he loves me.”_

Fuck! He fell for that one? That’s what he wants? That’s what’s important to him? If it is, if he has to have 'romance,' then he shouldn’t come back because he’s not going to get it from me. Persuade or beg him to stay? Hell! I won’t even ask him to stay. It has to be his choice. I won’t influence him. He has to be here because he wants to be, not out of a misguided romantic fantasy.  
  
I’m not the one who wants more, who needs more. I’m the same son of a bitch I was when he first met me. I won’t change, not even for Justin, and I wouldn't expect or want him to change either. But I guess he has.

 

 **JUSTIN**      
  
_“The sleepless wind has heard all things between the sea and sky._ _  
In the canyons of the city, you can hear the buildings cry.”_ _©Peart,Lee,Lifeson_

The only sound on the deserted street was the muted thud of his sneakers hitting the pavement, its rhythmic pattern a perfect harmony to the night’s silent melody. In these late hours, the footsteps echoed, not with the clickety-clack of outrageously expensive Prada leather, but with the weary scuff of soft soles that had experienced too much in a short lifetime. He had spent the last hour walking—to nowhere.  
  
The peace and quiet usually cleared his mind, giving him time to sort out his thoughts. But tonight it couldn’t simplify or ease, powerless against the jumbled emotions that threatened to tear him apart.  
  
He exhaled a tortured breath and redoubled his efforts to lose himself in his surroundings, to drink in the scents and sites of darkened store fronts and shadowy alleys, to feel the sting of chilled air against his cheek, to notice the reflexive movement of his leg muscles as he put one foot in front of the other. If he concentrated only on sensation, he could ignore everything else, at least for a little while.  
  
Block after desolate block he roamed. Pausing at every street corner, he'd stare at its tower of light for guidance. He received none. Instead, goosebumps prickled his skin from flashbacks so intense, he’d swear he traveled back in time to a moment seared in his soul forever. _  
  
“I want you to always remember this, so that no matter who you’re ever with, I’ll always be there.”_  
  
To walk away without any regard or regret was an unrealistic plan of action, scattered like ashes in the wind—because somehow Brian had found out.  
  
_“You decide where you want to be.”_  
  
With his hands stuffed in his pockets against the biting wind, he wandered aimlessly, overwhelmed by the enormity of the choice he had to make. He had to ask himself hard questions and didn’t want to hear the answers. A fierce battle raged between his mind and heart, fueled by the heavy weight of painful memories that encouraged him to move on and foolish hopes that coaxed him to stay,   
  
**And so it begins... Moments in your life that you need to leave in the past in order to move on to the future. You have to decide. It's your choice.**  
  
He brushed away a lone tear. He had a more immediate concern. Angrily thrown out by one, probably despised by the other, he had to decide where to go at this hour of the night. Sadly amused by his current dilemma, he reflected on how far he’d come and how far he’d fallen. And he had no one to blame but himself.  
  
                                                                                    FINI


End file.
